Wednesday, January 26, 2011

It's Oscar time! That might mean fashion and movies to you, but to me, it gives me an excuse to express my secret hobby: puns.

Every year when movies first start getting buzz, my subconscious starts thinking of food puns for a hypothetical Oscar party. Not that I ever have one planned - I don't think I know the right crowd for that. We had a party one year and a guy fell. asleep. How can you fall asleep over Frosted Nixon Brownies, Hotdog Millionaires, and.. Milk?

Regardless, I can't not think of puns-- I have no control over it. In the shower, while trying to sleep, stopped at a red light:

(or a Blue Valentine/True Grit combo: Blue Grits),

Some others: The Kids are all Rice, Rabbit Donut Holes, some type of food that's something inside something inside something.

Is anyone else a secret pun creator? (There's got to be a support group, right?) Got any good ones for my hypothetical Oscar party?

Also, if you are part of my crowd, and think an Oscar party might actually be fun, not snoozeworthy, let me know and maybe we can plan something.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

I hear a lot of unsolicited disgusting tidbits: I've listened to Y talk about draining abscesses. I've heard accounts of getting hit in the face with placenta, I've heard about every color and texture of discharge you can imagine. I've accidentally touched dried blood spatters on Y's white coat. Hell, I have held a cadaver's testicle. I thought I was unbreakable(for a layperson).

But something has finally grossed me out to the point of gagging: a teratoma. It's, as far as my unscientific brain can understand, a tumor that contains "mature elements" such as teeth or hair. Or, in extremely rare cases, LIMBS.

Scholarly Ike says: I would probably eat most of the things you've mentioned thus far.

A tumor full of hair and teeth? I'm gagging as I write this. Because of my extensive knowledge of classical Greek, I know that the word teratoma means roughly "monstrous tumor". That sounds about right.

I'm interested to know: If you have a spouse, parent, sibling, best friend in the medical field - what story/condition/bodily fluid sent you over the edge?

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Thursday, January 20, 2011

It seems like when everyone I know wants to feel better about their lives,they watch Teen Mom. I apparently read WWII novels. Seriously, I've read 4 in the past month or so, all randomly recommended to me by different people.

One of the best things about these books is reading the correspondence between the people at war and their lovahs. Of course, since these are novels, all the letters are well-written and inspiring and tear-jerking and all kinds of other nauseating things. But I imagine the real letters from the past -- and not just between wartime spouses, but between anyone separated by distance -- were just as beautiful.

I began to wonder* how future generations would describe such correspondence between couples in 2010. At the time I was reading these books, Y was preparing to leave for part of his OB-GYN rotation, which was across the state (dramatic, much? It was two hours away). I, being stuck in WWII-Novel-Land, expected romantic and pining messages -- even if they were via text.

So, future generations, when a 2010 medical student leaves his wife and pitbull mix behind for 2 weeks to train, THESE are the pining gestures (I want you to read that as if Ryan Seacrest is saying "THIS is American Idol"):

"If you were here, you should have said hi!"

Okay Y, maybe our bathroom does occasionally look like this when I change the toilet paper roll:

But can't a girl get a little absence makes the heart grow fonder every once in awhile?

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I was named after my grandmother. Since my grandmother is, well, my grandmother, she happens to have a slightly old fashioned name.

Esther.

I get a variety of reactions when I tell people my real name. A stammered "Well, uh, at least it's not... Bertha? [or some other not-so-desired name]" is common. So is, "Oh what a wonderful, Biblical name!" (I am in the south).

I bring this up because of a recent reaction I got at the dermatologist's office. "Is Esther a family name?" the nurse asked. I nodded, expecting reaction B, the biblical reply.

The nurse smiled and shook her head sadly. "I kept trying to get [the dermatologist] to name his little shih tzu Esther. She just looks like an Esther!"

Google Esther and you'll find... {well, this sentence was supposed to continue with "pictures of old ladies in rocking chairs" -- because that's what I think when I hear the name, and Google is usually on my side with these things -- but apparently Google images thinks "boobs" when it hears Esther. So scratch that. }

What I'm trying to say is that I've kind of spent my whole life feeling like I don't fit into the mold my name created for me. And due to some permanent scarring from elementary and middle school, I hear imaginary giggles every time my name is called at the DMV, the doctor's office, or the first day of school. Also, Wanda Sykes recently told Ellen that she named her spare tire Esther. Because what better name for both a shih tzu AND a fat roll than Esther?!

I rarely miss an instance of my name trying to squeeze through the cracks and become hip again. (Madonna tried her best in 2004). And given all that I've been through, all the hardships I've faced on the first day of school when I've turned bright red and muttered "Everyone calls me D", shouldn't I take every opportunity to embrace my given name? Even when -- no, especially when -- it comes in the form of a $200+ purse?

I'm having so much trouble finding this online that I feel like I must have dreamed it. It's a Knock Knock daily to-do list that has a daily quote about self involvement, a place for "notes for your memoir", and -- as seen above -- "the greatest thing I said today", complete with a blog worthiness rating. [Note that I did nothing blog-worthy today.] There's also a section where I can check off my best body part of the day. Today I checked knees. Not only did I achieve my life's resolution, but it was a good knee day.

In case I fall off the wagon, do you have any tips to stay organized? If you couldn't tell, I work best with pretty paper products.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Today I barely left the bed, much less the house. Ike and I ate cheese and crackers under the covers. I made an impressive snowball and some interesting fashion choices. Not a bad way to spend a snow day, and by snow day I mean hail day with a snow hour.

Last year I tagged my snow post as "this will likely be my only post about snow". I was wrong.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

This post contains Black Swan spoilers, so first I tried to write it in white text, the high tech version of invisible ink -- which I realized I really miss. Not so much the invisible ink, per se, but the idea of passing secret notes to my friends.

But, as usual, Blogger decided it didn't want to do what I told it to do, and my white font/invisible ink turned out grey. So, if you've seen the movie and want to read Y's thoughtful account of the ending, click below.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I'm a total sucker for a new year, a clean slate, empty planners, and endless possibilities. My new year's resolutions always include things like learning three languages and achieving world peace, just because for one fleeting moment, it almost seems possible. And I like that feeling.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Y and I recently discovered another shared interest, besides mushroom and bell pepper pizza, long road trips, and minimal effort games of tennis: young adult novels.

We listened to a book called The Maze Runner while driving to Birmingham for Thanksgiving, which we realized was just the warm up to the book we started listening to on our next driving adventure: The Hunger Games.

We listened to the first eight hour book in the car and started the second at the end of our trip. Then we decided to take a hiatus from speaking and turned it on while we cleaned, ate dinner, sat on the couch. It was kind of quaint; our little family crowded around the ipod. I liked to imagine we were listening to FDR on the radio.

Anyway, we are almost finished with the third book, which means we've listened to about 20 hours worth of Hunger Games Trilogy, which has resulted in two major things:

1. Hunger Games nightmares.

The scene: Y is struggling the entire night because I've decided, for some reason, to sleep diagonally on the bed leaving him without any room. Meanwhile, I'm having nightmares about being chosen for the hunger games.

Me: (at 2 am, half asleep) I don't WANT to go to the hunger games!!!

Y: (half asleep) they only send diagonal sleepers to the hunger games, so straighten out, asshole

Sunday, January 2, 2011

There's a reason I blog about Ike and Y more than I do myself: they are much more interesting than I am. But, as, promised, here is 2010 recap part 3: my year.

In January I started this blog because I could not keep my whining to myself for another second.

In February, I went on my first business trip by myself and spent far too long sitting in the windowsill taking pictures (I was in New Orleans. It wasn't that exciting).

In March I sang karaoke for the first time ever at the First Annual Carol Convention. My song of choice - Fancy by Reba McEntire - a guilty pleasure song that's on my karaoke bucket list. Also on my list: Kiss From a Rose by Seal. Seriously. How can you not be a fan of that song?

Saturday, January 1, 2011

I've finally realized that New Year's Eve will never be what it once was for me: hundreds of friends that I haven't seen in months meeting up on Bourbon Street for two unforgettable nights. No more trading compliments with transvestites in bar bathrooms; no more walks through the French Quarter that take 5 minutes but feel like hours; no more champagne toasts with brass bands playing Auld Lang Syne in the background (I remember it sounding like this); no more 2 am breakfasts of beignets and hot chocolate; no more sleeping on the floor of New Orleans mansions.

I think I'm starting to be okay with this.

But one more New Orleans New Year's Eve couldn't hurt, right? Next year in New Orleans?

Happy 2011, everyone!

P.S. Ike wore a hat and tie to our party and gave me death stares the entire night.